


Mycroft's Choice

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Lestrade, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Conversations, Dating, Developing Relationship, Domestic, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Mycroft, Omega Verse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:26:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1286017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Omega Mycroft never wanted an alpha, until he met Greg Lestrade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with an amazing cover by HumsHappily  
> 

The fact that Mycroft Holmes was an omega had become incidental to his life. He kept things carefully structured, had a three day heat every four months he carefully scheduled around, and any alpha who thought he could be cowed or intimidated quickly found out just how wrong they were. He was content with his lot in life and, other than the thorn in his side that was his younger brother, saw no reason his life wouldn't continue along the same path. Until the day Sherlock dragged alpha Gregory Lestrade into his life.

"I thank you for calling me," he told the Inspector as they headed down to the holding cells. In his mind, he was already gathering facts as he looked at the man: _handsome, unbonded, alpha, promising career, patient._

"Not the first time I've dealt with Sherlock," said Lestrade. "I'm sure the assault charges will vanish by next week." He gave Mycroft a critical eye.

"As long as he stays clean," said Mycroft. "I understand he's been helping on some of your cases."

Lestrade stopped and pulled him into an alcove. Internally he braced himself for the slightly shorter alpha to get in his face and try to intimidate him. Tiresome really. He was so busy with his thoughts he missed that Lestrade was actually speaking. "...so I'd appreciate you keeping that aspect quiet."

"I must apologize Inspector," Mycroft couldn't keep all the surprise out of his voice. "I missed part of that."

Lestrade chuckled and stepped back. "I only said that I'd appreciate you keeping your brother’s involvement quiet."

Mycroft shifted his umbrella. "Of course. I can't imagine your superiors would be happy to know of his participation, even if he does do your job for you."

Lestrade raised an eyebrow. "Solving the case isn't the same as prosecuting the crime. Come on." He moved past Mycroft and back down towards the cells. Watching him, Mycroft knew he had to do more research on the Inspector.

Sherlock eyed the pair of them as Lestrade unlocked the door, quickly shuttering his gaze, but not before Mycroft saw the curiosity. "Come along, Sherlock. Good evening, Inspector Lestrade."

"Evening, Mister Holmes." As they walked away, Mycroft felt the alpha’s eyes on him and suppressed a shiver. Simple biology, that was all. The man intrigued him.

"You like him," smirked Sherlock when they got to the car.

"Nonsense. I'm only pleased we've found a way to keep you clean." Mycroft got in after him.

Sherlock looked out the window, smug look firmly in place. Mycroft briefly considered letting him face the assault charge, but decided against it. More trouble than it would be worth, and Sherlock didn't belong in jail. Besides, perhaps he _would_ see the Inspector again.

**

A week later a rather irritated Inspector Lestrade walked into the office where Mycroft was working. "This better be good. I am not in the habit of getting into unmarked government vehicles."

"I am only a minor official. Sit, please, Inspector." Mycroft poured him a cup of tea.

"Rather stand, thanks. Ever heard of the bloody telephone?" Lestrade was clearly resisting the urge to pace. "Is this about Sherlock?"

Setting the tea in front of him, Mycroft leaned back in his chair. "As my brother rarely speaks to me, I was thinking perhaps you might be convinced to report on his behavior to me. You'd be compensated of course."

Lestrade ignored the tea and leaned over his desk. "Are you offering me a bribe?" His tone turned dangerous, stirring something dormant in Mycroft's belly.

Mycroft's smile never faltered. "Simply compensation for something you're more or less doing already. I just wish to be certain of my brother’s activities."

"Try talking to your brother then. I am not your lackey," Lestrade growled at him and walked out.

Mycroft rubbed his forehead, wondering if, for once, he'd made a serious miscalculation. Why did Gregory Lestrade get under his skin? He picked up one of the folders on his desk and looked again at the policeman's record.

**

It was another month before he saw Lestrade again in person. He kept an eye on him, of course. Learned his movements. All so typical for a man of his age, it should have been dull. But something about the man fascinated him. Mycroft was waiting outside the pub when Lestrade came out after the football match. "Care to save a cab fare?"

Lestrade eyed him, but shrugged and followed him to the waiting car. "Sherlock is still clean."

Mycroft licked his lips and got the door for him. "I thought perhaps I'd make a more social call." He got in the back seat with him.

Drunk though he was, Lestrade still had his faculties. "You're an unbonded omega. And you've been watching me."

Mycroft folded his hands on his lap. "Perhaps a bit," he admitted.

Lestrade looked him. "Take me home," he ordered.

Mycroft was surprised by the tone, but gave the address to his driver, aware Lestrade was watching him.

Lestrade stayed silent as they went, dark eyes on Mycroft. Under the detective’s gaze, he resisted the urge to adjust his collar or loosen his tie. But he could smell the alpha in the close confines. Finally they pulled up in front of Lestrade's flat.

Getting out a bit unsteadily, Lestrade turned around to meet his eyes. "I told you to call me next time." He slammed the door shut, leaving Mycroft with the lingering scent.

He took a breath and rolled down the window. "Inspector." No response. "Lestrade?" The man kept walking. "Gregory!"

That made him turn and stare at Mycroft all over again. "Nobody's called me that since my Grandmother..."

"Gregory, perhaps I made an error. A drink, maybe?"

Lestrade licked his lips, considering. "Next time call or text," he said, digging out his key and heading again for his flat.

**

The following Saturday, Mycroft sent a text, wondering at himself. _Perhaps we could watch the football match? Pub? - MH_

He stared at the mobile until it chimed. _Come to my place. -GL_

Mycroft let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding. _I will be there in an hour. - MH_

Dropping the phone on the bed, he went to the closet and browsed for a while before picking out a blue-gray shirt that would set off his eyes and a pair of charcoal trousers. He tried not to think too much as he dressed, checking himself in the mirror twice before going down to pick a bottle of wine, pulling on his coat and heading out to the car.

Forty-eight minutes after texting Gregory, he was knocking on the man’s door. Lestrade opened the door with a smile. “Thank you for coming,” he said, letting him into the small flat. Surely he could afford better on his salary? Something smelled delicious as he offered the bottle of wine.

“Oh, good year. This will go perfectly with dinner.” Lestrade smiled at him and led the way further into his flat.

Before long they were sitting down to an excellent dinner. “I must admit, I am impressed,” said Mycroft, sipping his wine. “Perhaps you are in the wrong profession.”

Lestrade chuckled. “I would be a terrible chef. But cooking for myself or….others, I don’t mind.”

“Well, I am grateful to be the object of your attentions this evening.” Mycroft realized what he’d said and looked at his wine glass, blushing a bit. He carefully pushed it away from him.

Lestrade reached over and touched his hand. “Thank you for not kidnapping me this time.”

Mycroft’s blush deepened. “Perhaps I should apologize for my earlier behavior.”

“It’s okay, I take it you’re not accustomed to this sort of situation.” Mycroft could feel him watching him.

“That would be correct Le… Gregory. I have always been something of a single-minded individual. My status as an omega has only been a hindrance, something to be managed.” He looked at Greg’s fingers gently stroking his.

“I think you’ll find I’m a fairly easy-going alpha. I have no desire to claim you against your will. I’m not going to take you to my room and ravish you or something foolish like that. Come on, let’s go watch the match.” He turned his palm over and offered his hand.

With a shy smile, Mycroft took it and they retired to the couch. Lestrade refilled their wine glasses after a little while, but they spent a pleasant afternoon in front of the telly, making small talk as they watched. He found himself relaxing for the first time in ages. Lestrade’s arm rested on the back of the couch, but he made no attempt to crowd him and kept an otherwise respectful distance. Mycroft found himself watching the Inspector out of the corner of his eye, half-waiting for something to go wrong. But nothing did and at the end of the night Lestrade walked him to the door, still holding his hand, and seeing him out with a smile.

**

The following weekend Mycroft had Gregory meet him at a small movie theatre. Gregory held his hand again as they watched the film, something artistic and German. Afterward, they went to one of Mycroft’s favorite restaurants. It was private and expensive, but Mycroft never minded the cost, even less so when he was sitting across from Gregory Lestrade.

“You didn’t have to go all out like this,” said Lestrade, touching his foot under the table. “But I appreciate it. The film was interesting.”

“I am glad you enjoyed it. I don’t usually…” he faltered.

Lestrade reached over and took his hand again. “I know.” He raised Mycroft’s hand to his lips and gently kissed the back of it, watching his face.

Mycroft’s heart skipped, but he didn’t pull away. “Gregory,” he said softly, wetting his lips.

“I am very glad for you company,” he put his hand back down, smiling warmly at him. Just then the waiter came with their meals and he let go so they could eat.

Lestrade frowned a little at the light salad on Mycroft’s plate. “That’s all you’re eating?”

Mycroft shrugged. “I need to lose weight,” he said quietly.

“I don’t think so,” Lestrade said, watching him. “You’re fine where you’re at.”

“A good tailor can hide a multitude of sins. Do not let it trouble you.” Mycroft gave him a smile and dug into his meal.

Lestrade’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he ate quietly. Mycroft got up to use the restroom towards the end of the meal and when he came back there was a large piece of tiramisu on the table and two forks.

“Gregory,” he said, looking down at him, not yet taking his seat again.

“Please,” Lestrade offered him a fork.

With a sigh, Mycroft sat down and poked at the dessert. Lestrade took a forkful and offered it to him. “You’re easy on the eyes, Mycroft Holmes.”

Mycroft gave him a smile and took the bite, squeezing his free hand. “Thank you,” he said as he swallowed and licked his lips.

“Anytime. Did you want to come back to my place?”

Mycroft studied his face, heart skipping. He bit his lip. “No...not tonight, thank you.”

Lestrade squeezed his hand again. “Okay. Let me know when?”

“I shall.”

**

It was almost a month again before they were able to find time to get together. They attended an after-hours exhibition at a local museum. Mycroft was surprised and delighted that Lestrade had an interest in art as well. The museum had a small cafe where they ended up after they walked through, engaged in such a lively discussion that for once Mycroft didn’t pay attention to what he was eating.

Lestrade laughed at something he said and leaned back. “This has been wonderful.” He squeezed Mycroft’s hand again. “Tonight will you come back to mine?”

Mycroft smiled warmly at him. “Yes, I will.”

“Good. I drove.” Lestrade led him outside and opened the door for him. It was a little odd to be in the front seat, but Gregory was a careful driver and soon they were back at his flat. Lestrade let him in and went to pour them some wine. He handed Mycroft a glass. “May I kiss you?”

Mycroft was surprised, but he nodded, clutching his glass. Greg leaned in and kissed him tenderly, again being careful not to trap him. Warmth flooded his belly and he could almost taste the alpha’s pheromones. It made him want to do things…

Shaking his head and stepping back, he put the glass down. “I’m sorry Gregory, I need to go.” He turned and fled the flat, texting for a car as he hurried down the stairs.

Greg came out as he was pacing, waiting for the car. “You’re safe with me,” he promised, leaning on the rail.

“It is not you I mistrust,” said Mycroft, looking down the road, willing the car to arrive faster.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m here,” said Greg. His tone was sad and Mycroft looked up, but he’d already gone back inside. Mycroft silently cursed himself and wondered just what he was doing.

**

The following week Mycroft was working late at home, unable to sleep. He’d be going into heat soon, so he was trying to get ahead. Suddenly there was a loud knock on the front door, followed by the bell. Wondering what on earth was going on at this late hour, he tied his robe tightly around his waist and went to the door.

To his surprise, Lestrade was on his doorstep with Sherlock. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late. He’s pretty drunk and insisted I take him here since it was closer.”

Mycroft’s lips formed a thin line as he looked at his little brother. “Bring him in; he can sleep it off in one of the guest rooms.”

He was sharply aware of Greg’s alpha pheromones as he half-carried, half-dragged Sherlock up the stairs. “Let me guess, for a case?”

“That’s what he said,” sighed Lestrade as they got him into the room. Mycroft turned down the sheets while Lestrade got the younger Holmes’ shoes off .

Stepping back, Mycroft let Lestrade put him into the bed proper before tucking his little brother in. “He’ll be fine by morning. Thank you for bringing him.”

“You’re welcome,” Lestrade looked at him in the dim light of the room. “It’s...good to see you.”

Mycroft bit his lip, wondering if the alpha could smell his oncoming heat. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

Lestrade smiled and Mycroft’s heart skipped. “I’d love one, thank you.”

They went down to the kitchen and Lestrade sat at his kitchen table, looking around at the understated opulence of the place. In a few minutes they were sitting together, sipping their drinks. Lestrade chuckled. “We’re so civilized.” He reached over and took Mycroft’s hand.

Mycroft closed his eyes, smelling him, feeling the warmth from him. “I’m….going into heat, Gregory.”

“I can tell,” Lestrade’s voice was gentle. “Do you want me to go?”

Mycroft shook his head. “No...but I need a few promises from you.”

“Name them?” Lestrade squeezed his hand again.

“Do not bond with me. Do not breed me.” He looked at the table instead of meeting Lestrade’s eyes.

“Okay.”

Mycroft looked up at him, startled and wary. “That’s okay?”

Lestrade reached his other hand over to trace his fingers along his jaw. “I am here for you, Mycroft. If those are your conditions, then so be it.”

Swallowing, Mycroft leaned across the table and kissed Lestrade, moaning softly into his kiss, his body reacting already. Standing, Lestrade came around and put an arm around his waist, kissing him again. “I’ll text work and let them know I won’t be in.” He broke the kiss and scented Mycroft’s neck

Mycroft angled his head, offering his throat instinctually. “Where is your room?” asked Lestrade.

“This way,” Mycroft thought his heart might beat out of his chest as he led the way up to his chambers. He looked at Gregory and loosened the tie on his robe.

Gregory stepped to him and gently cupped his face, kissing him again. “Only if you are certain,” he said, looking into his eyes.

“I never have been more sure,” said Mycroft, putting his hands over Greg’s and meeting his eyes.

He kissed Mycroft again, pushing the robe from his shoulders before stepping back and unbuttoning his own shirt. Mycroft sat on the bed and watched him undress. His cock stirred and he could feel his heat begin in earnest as he bit his lip. Gregory’s scent filled his senses and he shifted as he grew wet.

“You’re beautiful,” said Greg softly, dropping his trousers.

With another deep breath, Mycroft pushed down his bottoms, making some effort to cover himself. Greg shook his head and moved to the bed, kissing him again and trailing a hand down his chest. Mycroft leaned up to kiss him, tangling a hand on his hair.

Greg growled and pressed Mycroft back onto the bed. “You smell divine,” Greg purred.

Mycroft’s fingers reached down to touch his entrance. “I need….” he panted.

“Let me take care of you.” Greg kissed him again before moving down to lap at his cock. Mycroft arched against him and spread his legs for him, growing wetter by the moment. He gasped and moaned as Greg’s fingers probed him. He wanted this, and with that realization, he started to truly relax.

Greg smiled at him, sucking the head of his cock as he pressed in a second finger, stretching him. Mycroft’s eyes closed as he gave himself over to the pleasure. “Please, Gregory.”

Moving up, Greg kissed him again. “Let me just get a condom, I’ll be right back.”

Mycroft watched him dig in his coat. “I’ll need more to get through your heat, but this is enough for now.”

“Take me, please,” panted Mycroft.

Greg cupped Mycroft’s cheek. “I am honored to do this for you.” He moved between his legs, kissing Mycroft as he pressed against him.

He groaned as Greg pushed his way inside, tossing his head as his body accommodated him. He was being stretched, but it felt good and he knew the alpha was being gentle as he could. Greg’s teeth scraped along his neck before he pulled his head back and looked down at him.

Mycroft opened his eyes and met his. He gasped as he felt Greg’s knot against his entrance. He was wetter than he’d ever been as he met his lover’s eyes and gave a nod. Greg growled and pushed forward. There was an explosion of pleasure and pain as the knot slipped inside. Mycroft cried out and came suddenly between them, his body clamping down around Greg.

There was a loud growl, but no teeth marked Mycroft’s flesh as Greg filled him, holding him tightly through their orgasms. Mycroft’s skin tingled, craving the bond bite, but it faded as they both started to come down. Perhaps with time. Greg rolled them over so Mycroft was on top and held him tenderly, kissing his lips and his jawline as their bodies remained tightly bound together.

“Thank you,” panted Mycroft, dropping his head to Greg’s shoulder.

Greg smoothed his hands down Mycroft’s back. “Thank _you_.” he whispered.

There were still a few more days of heat to get through, but Mycroft knew Greg would see him through. Everything he needed was here, and they would work it out, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to type40consultingdetective, beltainefaire and loveanddeathandartandtaxes for reading this over for me.


	2. Chapter 2

When Mycroft's heat ended, they both went back to their lives and their jobs. While Gregory had kept his promise of not bonding with him, Mycroft still felt his thoughts turning back to the alpha, even as he worked through the inevitable pile of paperwork. Twice he caught himself standing in front of the mirror after his morning shower and looking at his shoulder as if trying to imagine what Gregory's bond bite would look like. Ridiculous.

Four days after the heat, Mycroft was working late in his home office when the bell rang. Grumbling and hoping it wasn't his little brother he went to answer and was surprised to find Gregory on his doorstep. "Saw your light was on," he smiled and gestured with a bag. "Dinner?"

Mycroft wanted to say something sharp about the hour, but his stomach rumbled at the smell. "Come in."

Greg smiled and followed him into the kitchen. His cock twitched at the memory of Gregory scenting his neck at this table, but he silently and sternly told his body to behave. Oblivious, Greg put the bag on the counter and started dishing out the homemade dinner, putting the leftovers in the fridge. "At least opening your refrigerator isn't the exercise in horror that Sherlock's is."

"You've been to his flat?" Mycroft was surprised.

"A few times." Greg watched him. "You've never been." It was a statement, not a question.

"My brother and I do not enjoy a particularly close familial relationship, as I am sure you are aware." Mycroft's tone was icy.

"But if he's in trouble he knows he can call you. Or you keep close enough watch to swoop in. Both, I think." Greg poured the wine, watching him closely.

Mycroft shrugged. "Did you come just to talk about him?"

"Of course not. Though for the record, he's still clean and all sobered up from the other night. Though I suspect it was a ploy to get me here."

"I am certain it was." Mycroft sat across from him. "I suppose we should talk about how this relationship will proceed."

"Just as it has, I figured." Greg sat across from him and took his hand, stroking his fingers. "As slow as you need to."

Mycroft was surprised again as he looked at their hands together. "You slept with me."

"I got you through your heat. I wouldn't object to sleeping with you under other circumstances, but that's entirely up to you."

Mycroft looked up into his eyes, remembering his initial observations ( _patient_ ).  "You're the strangest alpha I have ever met."

Greg chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment." He lifted Mycroft's hand to his mouth and kissed it. "Go on, eat."

After dinner they went back to the study and sat facing the fireplace with a little more wine. "This is a wonderful room," said Greg, admiring the walls stuffed with books and the window looking out onto the garden.

"It was my primary reason for choosing this home." Mycroft watched him.

Greg's smile was warm. "You have amazing taste."

They lapsed into comfortable silence. Eventually the clock struck one and Greg stretched, saying he should probably head home.

"Would you like to make use of one of my guest rooms?"

"I can do that. I keep a change of clothes at work." Greg stood and offered Mycroft a hand up. Mycroft led him upstairs and gave him a room down the hall from his bedroom and some pyjamas. Greg stole a chaste kiss as he closed the door.

Mycroft went to his own room and lay awake, watching the ceiling and missing the warmth of Greg's body against his own.

**

The following weekend Mycroft got a text. _Football? My place? -GL_

Mycroft looked at the paperwork on his desk and rubbed his temples. _Give me two hours - MH_

_See you then. -GL_

Two hours became three but eventually Mycroft felt confident the world wouldn't implode because he was away from his desk. He changed into something more casual after calling for a car and finally ended up on Greg's doorstep, nervous about arriving so late.

"Come on in!" Greg's smile was as warm and inviting as if he'd arrived an hour early instead of a bit more than an hour late. He filled him in on the match so far while giving him a plate of food and a beer. Soon they were together on the couch and Mycroft found himself watching Greg as much as the game, if not more. For his part, Greg made sure he finished his meal.

Mycroft watched Greg carry the empty plate into the kitchen. Jeans looked good on him. He blushed slightly as the man came back out, as if caught misbehaving.

Greg slid next to him on the couch. "I don't mind you looking," he purred in his ear, arm around his shoulders. "Or touching." His other hand squeezed Mycroft's thigh.

Breathing in the alpha scent, Mycroft turned his head to kiss him. Greg growled slightly and pressed him against the arm of the couch, tongue exploring his mouth.

Mycroft moaned, but put a hand on his chest and pushed. "Gregory."

Without hesitation, Greg sat back, giving him space. He watched him a moment, then got up to take an empty bottle into the kitchen.

Mycroft rubbed his face with both hands. _What's wrong with me?_ He wanted Greg, and Greg wanted him, but the idea of being intimate was terrifying.

Greg came back with two slices of cake and handed one to Mycroft with a smile.

"I am sorry," said Mycroft miserably.

"It's fine. Really." Greg's smile never faltered.

Mycroft picked at his cake and sighed. "In my line of work, I cannot have any weakness. Some have only seen me as an omega and foolishly believed they could intimidate me. I have worked very hard for where I am now."

"It's part of what I admire about you," said Greg, feeding him a bite. "If I ever push you too far, don't hesitate to tell me."

"Thank you, Gregory. I should head home, again, thank you." He stood and reached for his coat.

"Anytime." Greg saw him to the door and Mycroft gave him a quick kiss on the way out.

**

The next day Mycroft came home to find a bouquet of flowers had been delivered and was sitting on the kitchen table.

**

The following week there was a crisis. Greg texted about dinner, but Mycroft told him he had to work. By the time the fire was out it was a week later. He texted Greg only to remember he was on a case with Sherlock.

In the end it was nearly two weeks since the football date that Greg ended up at Mycroft's, looking disheveled and a bit worse for wear.

"Bastards put up a fight," he said, toeing off his shoes in the entryway.

"Come on, I'm sure you could use a hot shower. I'll fix you something." Mycroft hung up his coat.

"Maybe I should have gone home, but I wanted to see you." Greg looked up at him through hair falling into his eyes.

"I missed you too," admitted Mycroft. "The flowers were lovely."

"I'm glad you liked them." Greg gave a quick kiss and allowed himself to be shown to the shower.

Mycroft made sure he had a robe and pyjamas and went to see what there was in the kitchen to eat. He tightened his own robe. One of these days he needed to have Greg over at a more reasonable hour. He had warmed up some leftover pasta by the time Greg came back down. "Not as good as yours, of course."

"It's fine," Greg ate hungrily while Mycroft puttered around and wiped up non-existent mess.  "Come here," he smiled as he finished and pushed away from the table.

Watching Greg, Mycroft sat on his leg. Leaning in to kiss him, Greg looped his arms around his waist. "Thank you."

Mycroft sighed and leaned against his chest, comfortable. "I am glad you were not hurt."

"Me too." He kissed him again.

"You must be tired," Mycroft pulled back and looked at him. "Perhaps you could sleep in my bed?"

"Only if you're comfortable."

Mycroft nodded and stood, holding Greg's hand as they went upstairs. Mycroft hung his robe on the back of the door and climbed into the large bed. Greg watched him get settled and took off his own robe. The pyjamas didn't quite fit him, but he got in next to Mycroft and turned off the light. Mycroft curled up around his chest and fell asleep faster than he usually did, thanks to the familiar alpha’s comforting scent.

**

The next month passed quickly. Mycroft found Greg in his bed more and more nights. He gave him his own key and came home to Greg's wonderful cooking after a few rough days. Greg would always make sure he didn't work too late and Mycroft was a safe ear when Greg needed to complain or vent about his job or a case. Sherlock came up sometimes, in context of a case, but never that often. Some weekends he'd go to Greg's to watch a match, but most often they spent their evenings and nights at his place.

On this day Mycroft woke just before dawn. It was a Saturday, he remembered as he stretched. They were planning on going out later and take in an art exhibition. Greg breathed softly next to him, the light softening his features and making his silver hair glow. Impulsively he leaned in and kissed him. Greg moaned softly and returned the kiss, coming awake and giving Mycroft a sleepy smile. "Good morning."

"Morning," said Mycroft, running his fingers through Greg’s hair. He was aware of his need. Most mornings he'd hop in the shower to take care of an erection, but this morning felt different. Greg had never pushed after the one time, had accepted kisses and looks and holding his hand. Still, he was more nervous now than when he'd been in heat. Leaning in, Mycroft sniffed his neck, letting the alpha’s scent fill him.

"Mycroft?" Greg was very still.

"I want you, Gregory." He leaned up to kiss him again.

Greg grabbed his shoulders and rolled him onto his back, rutting against him as he kissed him deeply.

Mycroft moaned, feeling completely safe underneath him, wanting to give him this.

After so many weeks of waiting and wanting, they didn't last long as they moved together. Greg kissed him tenderly. "Come on, let's take a shower."

In the end they never left the house that day, spending most of it in bed. Mycroft couldn't remember ever being so happy as he was in his alpha’s arms. But as the day came to a close he was unexpectedly called into work and reluctantly left.

**

A few weeks later Mycroft was at work when he got an urgent text. _Sherlock's hurt - GL_

Mycroft cancelled the rest of his plans for the day, getting details on his mobile as he hurried to meet Greg at the hospital. A stupid injury too; he'd been chasing after a criminal and tripped down some stairs, cracking his head and spraining an ankle. They were keeping him overnight for observation.

"He's demanding to be sent home," said Greg, rolling his eyes.

"Of course he is." Mycroft followed him into the hospital room.

Sherlock stopped complaining and stared at the pair. "Why haven't you two bonded?"

"Good to know you are not too heavily concussed," said Mycroft dryly.

"Exactly. There is no reason to keep me overnight. The case is not yet solved and growing colder by the hour."

"We are on it," said Greg.

"It would take you a week. If you solved it." Sherlock crossed his arms.

"You aren't leaving," said Mycroft firmly. "Come along, Gregory." He felt Sherlock's eyes on him as they walked out. Mycroft pinched his nose.

Greg led him to a quiet corner out of the way of prying eyes. "You okay?" He asked quietly, rubbing Mycroft's arm. Just being around him made Mycroft calmer.

"Fine. Perhaps I can assist in lieu of my brother."

Greg gave a crooked smile. “If you like."

The jewel thief was arrested early the next morning. Sherlock was in a foul mood when Mycroft collected him from the hospital. "It was not your case to solve. Just because you wanted to show off for your _boyfriend_."

Mycroft silently counted to ten. "He is not my boyfriend."

"Oh, right. Would you prefer _mate_?"

"Now you are simply being vulgar." Mycroft willed the car to go faster. "Whatever Gregory Lestrade is to me, that is between us."

"When you go into heat again, you're planning on letting him bond with you." Sherlock was staring out the window, his voice clear and suddenly small.

Mycroft regarded his little brother. "Perhaps I am. But it won't change anything. Not between you and I, nor between you and him."

Sherlock turned towards him. "Are you so certain? I've read..."

"Sherlock." Mycroft cut him off. "I need you to trust me in this. I am not quitting my job to have a dozen babies. Gregory is not going to cut you out of cases. As you pointed out, we're practically bonded already."

Sherlock turned away again, wrapping his coat a little tighter around himself. "What is it like? To have someone?"

Mycroft was silent a long moment, watching him. "I never expected this in my life. I suspect it will be the same for you, someone from an unexpected quarter."

Sherlock snorted and fell silent. If Mycroft had been a praying man, perhaps in that moment he would have asked for his brother to find something akin to what he had.

He dropped him off in front of his flat, watching him limp inside before turning for home and overdue sleep.

**

When Mycroft felt his heat approaching he sat down with Greg at the kitchen table. "I'll be in heat these four days next week."

"Okay." Greg held his hand. "I'll let the Yard know. Same rules as last time?"

Mycroft bit his lip. "I still do not wish to have children at this time. But...if you wish to bond..."

Greg reached up and cupped his cheek. "I would be honored."

"This doesn't change things. We both are far too busy with our own lives to truly merge them." Mycroft watched him.

"I am yours," said Greg softly. He picked up Mycroft's hand and kissed it; one of Mycroft's favorite gestures. "Whatever that entails."

"Thank you." Mycroft crossed over and sat in his lap, kissing him, trusting him.

**

On the predicted day, Mycroft woke up in heat. He reached for Greg to find that side of the bed empty. Panic creeping at the edges, he looked around the room.

A minute later Greg came out of the bathroom. "Oh," he said, coming to the bed. "Your heat started."

Mycroft nodded and reached for him.

"I'm here," said Greg softly, kissing up his arm. "You'll never go through heat alone again."

Mycroft was needy and Greg prepared him quickly. _My alpha,_ thought Mycroft as Greg moved to take him. He wanted nothing more in this moment then Greg’s knot inside him and his teeth marking him. The alpha growled as he pushed inside, making Mycroft bare his neck and beg incoherently. He could feel the knot swelling as Greg thrust.  

The first coupling of a heat was always short. Mycroft's blunt nails raked down Greg's back as he writhed underneath him, Greg's hand on his cock.

Then he was coming and so was Gregory and teeth pierced skin and the world stopped as he could feel the flush of chemicals coursing through his system, cementing the bond-bite . He called his lover’s name, riding the wave of pleasure until he went limp.

Greg held him, still joined. "I love you," he whispered in his ear.

Mycroft squeezed him, unable to say the words aloud, but meaning them all the same.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to shellysbees, beltainefaire and type_40_consulting_detective. I think there might be at least one more chapter out of this thing.


	3. Chapter 3

Mycroft went back to work the day after his heat ended. As soon as he stepped out of the elevator he felt the change in his colleagues. He resisted the urge to straighten his suit and  headed for his office. A man stepped into his path “I see you decided to come back.” Mister Williams was an alpha through and through and had never gotten along with Mycroft. If anyone was making jokes about omegas behind his back, it was Williams.

“Of course,” he made a move to go around him.

Williams leaned into his space and sniffed. “Bonded, finally. Suppose that means you’ll be quitting to have babies soon?” He smiled like a piranha.

“Not hardly.” Mycroft pushed past him.

Williams crossed him arms. “Must be nice to take five days off every four months just to mate.”

Mycroft turned and gave a smile. “Well, if you could convince an omega to bond with you, you’d know. Funny how that hasn’t happened yet.” He turned and stepped into his office, closing the door firmly behind him.

 _Arsehole_. He took a breath and went to his desk. At least everything appeared to be in order. He sat and opened his laptop and reached for the first file.

A text from Greg reminded him it was lunchtime. _How is work? - GL_

_Busy as usual - MH_

_Dinner? - GL_

_Not tonight, too much to catch up on. Later this week - MH_

_Okay - GL_

Mycroft tucked his mobile back in his pocket and stretched, still a bit sore from the last few days. He made his way out into the common area to find Williams flirting with a pretty little omega assistant. She smiled at Mycroft. “Congratulations.”

“On what, exactly?” Mycroft mentally calculated the risk/reward of having Williams murdered in his sleep.

She glanced at Williams. Mycroft was aware of others watching the exchange. “Ah, well, being bonded of course.”

“It changes nothing,” said Mycroft, resisting the urge to retreat back to his office. “I would strongly suggest you both go back to work.” He went for the elevator, deciding he wanted the quiet of the Diogenes Club for lunch. Possibly the rest of the afternoon.

Instead of comfort as he strode in the doors, Mycroft was met with looks and a few raised eyebrows. There weren’t many omegas here, and fewer still that were bonded. Panic tingled down his spine, but he kept his countenance blank as always, walking back to get a plate of food and sitting down in his customary chair.

A man he didn’t really know sat down near him. At first he was irritated, but after a moment he realized why. The man was also a bonded omega. He took out his mobile and looked the man up while he ate. A few years younger, two children, husband was a writer of some sort. He gave Mycroft gave a small smile as he finished and headed off. Pregnant with the third, Mycroft realized.

He touched his own stomach. Did Gregory really want kids? They hadn’t really discussed it, other than making his own opinion clear. Biting his lip he sent a text, telling him he changed his mind about supper and to meet him at one of their favorite places.

On his way to the restaurant, his phone beeped with a message from Sherlock. _Shall I tell gran to knit some booties? - SH_

Mycroft ignored it and rolled his eyes.

_Perhaps mummy still has my crib - SH_

_Do  you have names picked out? - SH_

Mycroft squeezed the phone. _I am not expecting, brother. - MH_

_I could still smell you on the Inspector - SH_

Mycroft wondered what the hell he was supposed to say to _that_. He took a few deep breaths and found they’d reached the restaurant. The hostess got the door for him. He glanced at her, but kept walking. Relief flooded his system as he saw his mate. He blinked and chastised himself. Gregory was still Gregory. That hadn’t changed.

Greg frowned a bit, taking his hand. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course it is.” Mycroft forced a smile.

Greg watched him, but said nothing else as they were shown to a quiet table. The waiter was someone he didn’t recognize. He turned to Gregory. “And what drinks tonight?”

“Oh, I’m not the wine expert. Mycroft?”

Mycroft picked up the wine list and asked for one not on it that he knew they carried. “I’m sorry, we don’t have that.”

“Yes you do,” Mycroft met the man's eyes.

“It is not on the list.”

“You must be new.” Mycroft’s smile was quickly turning into a sneer. “You do have it, I assure you.”

The waiter gave Greg a look and stalked off. “What was that about?” asked Greg, reaching across the table to take his hand.

Mycroft dropped his hands onto his lap. “Oh, I’m bonded now. I’m going to quit my job and have a dozen babies.”

Greg blinked a few times. “What?”

Before he could say more the waiter was back at their table. “No, sir,” he looked at Greg. “We don’t have it.”

Mycroft stood, chair scraping on the floor. “You most assuredly do. I want your manager. Now.”

The manager returned a few minutes later. “Mister Holmes! Whatever is the problem?”

Mycroft was pleased to see the color drain from the waiter’s face. “Your new waiter here is telling me that you do not have the wine I know you keep especially on hand for me. Also he keeps talking to my….Mister Lestrade instead of to me.”

“I’m very sorry Mister Holmes. Please, sit, I will have it brought right out for you. And you will not have to deal with this waiter again. I will take care of you myself.” He took the waiter by the arm and all but hauled him away from the table.

Greg watched Mycroft with respect and admiration as he sat back down. “Long day?” he asked, licking his lips.

Mycroft laughed mirthlessly. “You have no idea.”

He took Mycroft’s hand under the table. “It’s about the bond, isn’t it?”

Mycroft nodded. “They can tell. They can all tell, and are assuming that I am going to be carrying your children sometime in the next five minutes. Even Sherlock…”

“Sherlock is an arsehole, and you know it better than I do.” Greg squeezed his hand. “You don’t want children. Nothing is going to change between us.”

“Do...you want children?” Mycroft met his eyes.

Greg shrugged. “I never thought too much about it. You don’t want children, I’m okay with that. Honest.”

Mycroft looked down at the table, wondering, not for the first time, what Gregory saw in him. The manager reappeared with two glasses of wine. “Dinner is, of course, on the house. What can I get you?”

After dinner Greg walked Mycroft to his car. “Do you regret bonding?” he asked seriously as he got the door for him. Mycroft froze a moment, then turned and buried his head against Greg’s neck, inhaling his scent. “No.”

Greg rubbed his hands up and down his back. “Come on, you’re going to spend the night at mine.”

Mycroft was surprised. Overnight was nearly always at his own place. Was Greg trying to lay another claim?

“Hey,” Greg kissed him. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, it is fine.” Mycroft forced a smile and slipped into the car.

Greg drove to his flat with his hand on his knee.

**

Mycroft was strangely nervous as they went into Greg’s flat. Pulling him close, Greg kissed him tenderly. “I’ve got an idea, if you’re up for it?”

Raising an eyebrow, Mycroft studied his face. “Something unconventional.”

“What about us is conventional?” Greg smiled warmly at him. “I want you to take me.”

Blinking a few times, Mycroft studied his face. “You want me to penetrate you?”

“Yup.” Greg hung his coat up and offered to take Mycroft’s. He shrugged out of it, then surged forward, pushing Greg against the wall and kissing him hungrily. He moaned and opened his mouth to him. Mycroft groaned at the taste of him, feeling his cock growing against him.

Pushing Mycroft back slightly, Greg went to his knees and looked up at him. Mycroft undid his trousers as his lover slowly licked his lips. He got his cock out and Greg leaned forward to lap at the head, pulling the foreskin back.

“More,” panted Mycroft, thrusting forward. Greg held his gaze and took him deeper. Clearly he had previous experience that made Mycroft flush with jealousy and arousal. He growled and tugged Greg’s hair, thrusting slowly as he watched him.

Finally, panting, Mycroft pulled out. “Bedroom.”

Greg grinned and got to his feet. He obeyed quickly, stripping his clothes as they walked. Mycroft wrapped a hand around his waist and pulled him close, grinding against his arse. “Don’t throw your clothes on the floor.”

Greg moaned softly and carefully folded his things and set them on top of the dresser. Mycroft licked his lips as he admired his body. “Can you prepare yourself?”

“Yes.” Greg moved onto the bed and pulled lube out of the drawer.

Mycroft carefully got out of his own clothes as his alpha worked himself open. He’d never imagined that he’d mate and bond, let alone with someone who would encourage this. Greg was beautiful like this, moaning softly, thick alpha cock bobbing against his stomach, knot swelling slightly with the arousal.

“I’m ready enough, come on,” Greg growled, eyes nearly black.

Mycroft shivered and crossed to him kissing him as he pressed his way inside.

**

With a start, Mycroft woke sometime in the night. It took a moment to realize he was in Gregory’s bed. Everything smelled like alpha here, and the owner of that smell was snoring softly next to him. He raised up on one elbow and looked at him in the dim light. Gregory didn’t think less of him for bonding. In fact, clearly, the man rather enjoyed being taken, even if he hadn’t shown those desires before today. He wondered what else he didn’t know about the man. Had they moved too quickly?

Taking a breath he leaned down and kissed him gently. Whatever happened next they would figure it out together.

**

A month later Greg and Mycroft were leaving a movie when an all too familiar presence moved into their space. “So you do have a life outside the office,” sneered Williams.

Mycroft could feel Greg’s tension, though he’d told him nothing about the man in particular. Most of others at the office and club had grown used to the different scent and left him alone. But Williams had always been jealous of Mycroft’s position, especially as an omega.

“Simply out enjoying a film, same as you,” said Mycroft. “Have a good evening.” He started to push past him with Greg just behind him.

Wiliams snorted. “He’s a pushy little breeder, isn’t he?” Suddenly there was a grunt and Mycroft turned to find Greg had pinned the man to the wall.

“What’s your name?” asked Greg.

“I don’t have to tell you anything. I see pushy is in both your natures.” Williams met Greg’s eyes.

“Gregory,” said Mycroft quietly.

Letting him go, Greg stepped back. “I’ve got my eye on you.”

“Please.” Williams brushed off his coat. “You have no idea who I am.” Greg turned away, clearly trying to control his temper, but Williams spoke up again. “Mouthy bitch like that, you probably have to gag him before you can mount him.”

“That’s it.” Greg turned and swung, sending him crashing back into the wall.

“Gregory!” Mycroft grabbed his arm. People were staring. Greg shook Mycroft off and kicked the man once before stalking away.

Mycroft was shaking. Greg put an arm around him. “He’ll report you, you know,” said Mycroft.

“I don’t give a bugger all,” said Greg. He leaned in to kiss him. “What’s his name?”

“Thomas Williams. He works in my office, as I’m sure you’ve figured out. He’s a wanker, Gregory. I don’t need you  to get assigned to a desk over me.” Mycroft straightened Greg’s coat.

“No one has the right to talk to you or about you like that.” Greg cupped his cheek. “You hear me?”

Mycroft sighed. “It’s fine.”

“It’s really not.” Greg studied his eyes, but for the moment left it alone.

**

Two days later Mycroft woke to the news that Williams was arrested. Gregory wasn’t the arresting officer, but he didn’t have to be. He sighed and sent a text. _What did you do? - MH_

_Rather not discuss this over text - GL_

_So you don’t deny it, then? - MH_

_Shall we meet for lunch? - GL_

_Is breakfast possible? - MH_

_I’ll let work know I’m going to be late - GL_

Mycroft paced in the kitchen until Greg let himself in. “Williams was dealing in drugs.”

“You had him arrested.” Mycroft crossed his arms and leaned against the counter.

“Did you miss the part about dealing drugs?” Greg put his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Besides, I wasn’t the arresting officer.”

“Are you denying you had anything to do with it?”

Greg sighed. “What do you want me to say, Mycroft?”

Mycroft moved closer to him. “I don’t need you to fight for me. I’m not a bloody princess.”

“He was already under investigation. I maybe helped move it along a bit…” Greg met his eyes and straightened. “Didn’t you say breakfast?” He moved towards the fridge.

“I do not need you to fight my battles. You said drugs, did you make certain there was?”

Greg turned to him with eggs in his hand. “Are you suggesting I _planted_ evidence?”

“Did you?” Mycroft watched him closely.

“Of course I didn’t!” Greg set the eggs down a little too hard and yolk oozed onto the counter. “What the hell?”

Mycroft crossed his arms again.

“Don’t you trust me?” Greg met his eyes and shook his head.”You really don’t do you?”

“I have to be certain, Gregory,” said Mycroft.

Meeting his eyes, Greg knocked the eggs from the counter, turned on his heel and walked out.

Silently, Mycroft crouched to clean it up, ignoring the tears stinging his eyes and the ache in the bond bite.

**

To Mycroft’s surprise, it was Sherlock that came ‘round almost two weeks later, standing dripping on his brother’s doorstep in the rain. Mycroft sighed and let him in, hanging up his coat and leading him into the kitchen and fixing tea.

“You and the Inspector had a fight,” said Sherlock.

“He had someone arrested.” Mycroft busied himself with with the cream and sugar.

“Isn’t that what police do?” He could feel Sherlock’s eyes on him. “Friend of yours?”

“God, no,” said Mycroft quickly.

“So then what is the problem?” Sherlock accepted his tea.

Mycroft leaned against the counter. “He overstepped his bounds.”

“In what way?” His tone was honestly curious.

Mycroft pinched his nose. “There was an altercation with another man in my office. Two days later that man was arrested. Drugs, allegedly.”

“You don’t believe him? You do, though.” Sherlock’s eyes were sharp.

“I don’t need an alpha to protect me. I never have and I don’t need to start now.” Mycroft didn’t flinch.

“He’s your bond mate, brother.” Sherlock sipped his tea.

“I don’t need an alpha.”

“But you chose to bond with him. Surely that means something?” Sherlock searched his face.

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his shoulder unconsciously . “It does.”

“Well the man’s miserable. Nearly impossible to work with.” Sherlock focused on his tea.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “I’ll speak with him.”

Sherlock shrugged. “Been out all night on a case, I’ll take a guest room.” He finished his tea and left the cup on  the table. Mycroft picked it up and put it in the sink.

**

Greg came later that afternoon, not long after Sherlock left. “Got your text.”

Mycroft sighed and looked at the way Greg wrapped his arms across his body. “Gregory. Come in, please.”

Greg stepped inside. Mycroft tried to think of where they could sit, but every room in the house now held memories. And the kitchen…

“Hey,” Greg touched his arm.

Mycroft turned and looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” said Greg softly.

“There is nothing to apologize for. You were simply doing your job,” said Mycroft stiffly.

Greg hooked an arm around his neck and drew him into a kiss. “I love you, you daft git.”

“I know.”

Greg smiled sadly and touched his cheek. “I know you don’t want me to interfere with things.”

Mycroft took his palm and kissed it. “I told you, I have had to fight for my position due to my nature. And now that I am bonded, people just expect…”

Greg kissed him again. “I know. But you don’t have to face it alone. Please, My… Mycroft. It’s not just that we’re bonded, you know.”

Mycroft nodded. Greg wrapped him in his arms. Mycroft breathed in his scent and kissed his neck. Greg shivered. “Next time, I’ll call you first, okay?”

“Thank you.”

Greg’s hands moved lower. “Come on, let me show you how much I missed you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this is going to be longer than 3 chapters. It keeps growing on me.


	4. Chapter 4

Things settled over the next few weeks. They went back to seeing each other once a week, maybe twice sometimes if they had time. Mycroft found himself longing to share Greg's bed, but he reminded himself that they did have separate lives, and it was safer that way for him.  

Greg caught him fingering the sheets one morning after he'd spent the night. Smiling and kissing his neck he hugged him from behind. "Why not take the blanket home with you. Might help you sleep when we can't be together."

Mycroft turned and kissed him. He sighed and rested his head on his shoulder. Greg smiled. "Why not come over for dinner?"

Raising his head, Mycroft searched his eyes. "Come to mine when you get off. I might be working late."

"I will." He kissed him again. "I'll make breakfast."

When Mycroft got to work and opened his bag he found the blanket carefully folded on top. He was alone in his office so he picked it up and scented it before putting it back. Squaring his shoulders he went to his desk to deal with the problems of the day.

Late in the afternoon there was a text from Greg. _Murder. I’m going to be late - GL_

Mycroft looked at his mobile. _You’ve got a key - MH_

There wasn’t another message, so Mycroft assumed he was busy or on his way to the scene. He added a few more things to his current work, then saved and set it aside, pulling up CCTV. It didn’t take long to find the crime scene in an alley. Sherlock was there too and crouched next to the body while Greg stood just behind. Suddenly someone popped up from behind a dumpster and there was a camera flash. Mycroft’s heart clenched as the photographer took off with Greg just behind him. They vanished around a corner and Mycroft frantically looked for another camera.

On the desk, his phone vibrated. _If you aren't watching, someone got a photograph of me at a crime scene with Lestrade. -SH_

A hundred different scenarios danced through Mycroft’s head. Straight blackmail, exposing his and Gregory's relationship, taking down Gregory's career for allowing Sherlock on scenes... He closed his eyes and took a breath, then another. Had to deal with this logically.

The phone vibrated again and Mycroft opened his eyes. He looked down and saw the photograph. From an unknown number. He grabbed his mobile and started tracing, heart thudding heavily in his chest. _I'm sorry Gregory_ , he thought and quickly shoved those feelings aside. Sentiment had no place here.

He lost track of time, fingers moving fast across the keyboard as he chased data and information streams. He wouldn't have Greg’s career ruined over _him_. He was so involved in his work that he barely noticed the door opening. "Mycroft."

"Gregory." He looked up, the alpha’s scent calmed him, to his irritation.

"Sherlock told me how to get here. And gave me his badge." He lifted it and showed him.

Mycroft sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'll get you your own."

Greg moved towards him cautiously, as if afraid of spooking him. "It's gone past midnight."

"I nearly have it," said Mycroft, looking back at his screens.

"You need to eat and rest."

"Are you telling me what to do?" Mycroft didn't look up. "I'm trying to save your career."

Greg sighed and sat across from him. "We'll deal with things as they come."

Mycroft blinked and looked up at his eyes. "We?"

Greg leaned forward and put his hand over Mycroft's. "We. You and I. Together."

Suddenly, Mycroft was bone weary. Greg came around the desk and helped him up, guiding him to the small couch. He sat behind him and held him gently against his chest. "I love you."

With a sigh, Mycroft let himself relax against him, nosing his neck slightly. He wanted to repeat the words, to let Greg know he cared just as deeply, but it was like his tongue just couldn't form the words. Greg ran a hand down his chest, soothing, and before he knew it he'd fallen asleep.

Mycroft woke with a start, still on the couch. Greg snored softly behind him. Carefully he got up and turned around, smiling softly. Greg hadn't even taken his coat off. He leaned down for a quick kiss then moved to his desk to order them some breakfast. Fortunately the cafeteria knew him and promised to send it quickly.

By the time there was a soft knock on the door, Mycroft had made tea. He collected the tray of food and closed the office door. Still had a few minutes until most others would start arriving. "Gregory."

Greg sat up and rubbed his eyes. He smiled at the food and tea and dug in. Mycroft took his own plate and went to his desk. Nothing yet on the news sites. He looked worriedly at Greg. "They could still break the story."

He swallowed a mouthful of egg. "I told you, we'll handle it when it comes. You aren't facing this alone and neither am I."

***

Four days later it hit the fan. The article didn't call Mycroft out by name, but it pointed at untoward behavior by 'a government official' taking advantage of his position to insinuate his brother, 'an amateur', with the Yard.

"They called me an amateur!" Sherlock was storming, pacing in his brothers kitchen. He'd barged in first thing this morning with the paper. "The idiots," he snarled.

Mycroft had texted Greg, but there was not yet any response. He was worried, but at least Sherlock provided a distraction. "It will be dealt with," said Mycroft calmly.

“How? More of your ‘influence’? The papers will eat that up.” Sherlock stopped and faced his brother.

“You never care what the papers say, why now?” Mycroft was honestly curious.

Instead of answering Sherlock picked up his tea and went to sulk in another part of the house. Mycroft could hear slamming doors and sighed. He rolled his eyes and reached for his phone, but there was a knock on the door.

 _Gregory_ , he knew, even as he went to answer it.

The man stood on his step, looking a bit miserable, but he quickly tried to hide it as he met Mycroft’s eyes. “I see you’re up.”

“I did hear the news, yes. Sherlock is here as well . Upstairs with his tea. How are you?”

“On leave for the next week while they ‘investigate’,” Greg sighed

Mycroft closed the door behind him and pulled him into an impulsive hug. “I am sorry.”

Greg was surprised. He smiled softly and kissed him. “Not your fault. This was always a danger of letting Sherlock on cases.”

“And I suppose a danger of our relationship.” Mycroft watched him.

“That I wouldn’t trade for all the tea in China,” said Greg, cupping his cheek. “Do you have any breakfast around here? I came straight from the office.”

Mycroft felt strangely free as he lead him into the kitchen. Gregory was here, Sherlock was here. Greg hadn’t been let go outright. Maybe this could all work out. Or it was the alpha’s pheromones working on his system again.

“Hey, relax.” Greg rubbed the back of his neck and took a mug of tea. “We will get this sorted.”

“I know we will.” Mycroft saw movement out the kitchen window and turned to look, barely catching a glimpse of Sherlock hurrying across the garden. Must have climbed out a window. Mycroft shook his head and leaned into Greg’s touch a moment before going to fix him some breakfast.

**

Mycroft was in his office a few hours later when he got the phone call. Of _course_ Sherlock had stuck his nose all up in it. “Thank you for letting me know.” He told the woman on the other end.

He turned to his laptop and pulled up CCTV. It appeared Sherlock was getting his arse handed to him by three men. Not doing too badly though, apparently those lessons had paid off. He must have said something, because suddenly one man swung at another, leaving Sherlock with this third. In a moment Sherlock had him up against the brick wall, arm twisted behind his back. Mycroft couldn’t help the small smile of pride at his little brother. The man apparently gave him whatever information he was seeking because Sherlock let him go and headed down the alley. The man tried to break up the fight between his two friends.

“I do hope you get to the root of the tree,” muttered Mycroft aloud to no one. Greg was still at his place, telling Mycroft if he was going to get in trouble over their bond, then there was no point in pretending it didn’t exist and going back to his own place. That sounded suspiciously like moving in, but he had to get to work and there was no time to argue about it.

He kept himself busy with work. Of course he heard rumors buzzing when he went into the main part of the office, but no one dared question him or bring up the gossip. Still, it was a relief when he could close the last project of the day, secure his office and head for home.

Opening the door, the house smelled delicious. He followed his nose to the kitchen and found Greg putting the last touches on an amazing looking dinner. “I had time,” he smiled.

Mycroft couldn’t help but smile back. He stepped to him and kissed him. “Thank  you.”

“Well don’t go expecting this every night. But you deserved something good.” Greg took out a bottle of wine and gestured Mycroft to the table. They didn’t talk much over dinner, but Mycroft found himself grateful for the company. Afterward he helped clean up before they retired to his study, Mycroft doing just a bit more work before bed, Greg curled up in a chair by the fireplace with a book. He couldn’t help but feel it was all rather domestic, even as they headed upstairs to his bed.

**

Two days later he came down for breakfast to find a file on the kitchen table and a note in Sherlock’s sloppy handwriting. He opened it up and nodded. He might be obnoxious, but Sherlock had gathered all the evidence they’d need. Greg appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, yawning and unshaven. Mycroft pressed a cup of coffee into his hand. “I have to go in early, take care of some things.” He gave him a peck on his cheek.

“I don’t know how you do it,” muttered Greg. He nuzzled his neck. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I will be home when I can. I’ll text.” Mycroft grabbed his umbrella on the way out and tried not to think about how comfortable it was to have Greg there all the time.

As soon as he got to work he started on the information Sherlock had provided. It was fairly short work to find a link between those targeting Greg and Williams. Of course it had been that bloody alpha. He packaged everything and sent it to the appropriate places. A few minutes later he got a text from Greg that he was needed at work. Mycroft smiled and leaned back in his chair.

By the time Greg got back to Mycroft's, the omega was putting the finishing touches on a dinner. "Smells wonderful," smiled Greg.

"How did it go?" Mycroft already knew the answer.

"Great. I'm back on Monday and I even got a stipend for Sherlock." Greg was beaming. He hooked an arm around Mycroft’s waist and kissed him.

Mycroft took the skillet off the stove as he kissed him back. "Staying through the weekend then?"

Something shifted in Greg's eyes. "If you'd like. I can go back to my place, though, if you'd rather." He pulled away.

Mycroft looked at him and realized he didn't want the man to leave. He felt better when he was here. He enjoyed their little domestic moments. Meeting his eyes he reached for his hand. "No, Gregory. I want you to stay. This week, it's been nice."

Greg let out a breath. He pulled Mycroft against his chest. "I've never seen you smile so much as this past week. Despite everything."

Mycroft relaxed against him. It felt like something cracking in his heart. "I love you," he whispered.

Greg squeezed a little harder, letting him know he'd heard. He pulled back to cup Mycroft's cheek and kiss him. "I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This had been a sometimes difficult fic to write, but thanks for sticking with me and I hope you all enjoyed it.
> 
> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
